


December Never Felt so Wrong

by ProsperDemeter



Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, POV Wally West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: Spending a weekend in Gotham was simultaneously the best and worst decision Wally had ever made. For one, it was cold in Gotham - like dangerously dancing on the line above negative temperatures at night. Not that that was a problem for Wally - he moved too much to be anything but a human space heater - but it was the principal of the matter.For another, the unshakable balance of Batman and Robin was… shaking.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Wally West, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper & Wally West, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Jason Todd & Wally West
Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035498
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95





	December Never Felt so Wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [censored](https://archiveofourown.org/users/censored/gifts).



> It's a little angsty, a little sweet, and has an imbiguous ending yikes.
> 
> Happy beginning of my 25 days of holiday fics! 
> 
> Inspired by the song Winter Song by Leslie Odom Jr.

Spending a weekend in Gotham was simultaneously the best and worst decision Wally had ever made. For one, it was  _ cold _ in Gotham - like dangerously dancing on the line above negative temperatures at night. Not that that was a problem for Wally - he moved too much to be anything  _ but _ a human space heater - but it was the  _ principal _ of the matter. 

For another, the unshakable balance of Batman and Robin were…  _ shaking _ . That wasn’t to say that they didn’t work flawlessly around each other. Oh no, Dick and Bruce were much too professional to fight  _ in the field _ but once they got back to the cave, or saw each other in the hallway, or spoke on the phone they were inches away from tearing into each other’s throats. And the poor  _ new kid _ . Wally had thought it would be fun to go for a surprise visit during his break from school. 

And that wasn’t to say that it  _ wasn’t _ fun. Dick knew how to entertain and Wally honest to god  _ liked _ it when Dick regaled him with tales and dragged him to all of Gotham’s best holiday attractions. It was just the  _ fighting _ that was started to edge on the tone of  _ disownment _ and less on  _ family squabble _ . To say it was grating was talking down to the level of awkward it instilled. Wally didn’t even know where it was coming from, but every little thing that Dick did seemed to rub Bruce the wrong way and vice versa. They just straight up did not get along. 

He winced at the way the Batmobile’s door slammed when Dick climbed out of it - still in the passenger seat and much more lithe than Wally knew Bruce hoped he would turn out to be. Built like the acrobat he always had been, Dick’s Robin was still thin, slight, and bendy. He was muscular, Wally had  _ seen _ what was under that suit extensively, and he still packed a punch but Dick relied heavily on flexibility and acrobatics still. He had developed his own unique fighting style that was downright pretty to watch but terrible to be on the other end of. Wally knew  _ that _ first hand too. 

The problem this time seemed to be the same that it always was. Dick didn’t follow orders the way Bruce wanted him to. It seemed the big bad bat was learning the hard way what teenage rebellion looked like when you had trained your kid to to be a crimefighter. They had never come to blows, not that Wally had ever seen or been privy to (which  _ thank God _ for that) but sometimes both Dick and Bruce knew too much about each other to keep harm out of their words and hurled insults. 

The new kid was sitting next to Wally on the top of the stairs. Alfred had given them both hot chocolate and a plate of gingerbread cookies just minutes before. He was a good kid, quiet but eager and obviously underfed. He asked Wally about college a lot. 

Dick had introduced the kid as Jason - he had been caught trying to steal the tires off of the Batmobile, had orange hair just a shade darker than Wally’s and a thick lower class Gotham accent. Thankfully, Wally had experience with accents -  _ Dick _ had one when he was sleepy that was much more difficult to understand and Wally could impersonate close to thirty accents himself. Jason didn’t talk much but it still counted as more words than Bruce Wayne had said to Wally in the entirety of the time Wally had known him. 

The childish, terrified part of Wally thought that, perhaps, half of what Bruce and Dick were fighting about was the new change in their relationship.  _ Relationship _ . Friendship? Wally didn’t even know. Dick had been such a fixture in his life since they were kids that it felt like it was only the natural progression to turn into something more. The new kid didn’t seem to care one bit - he still looked at Dick with clear hero worship and Wally knew that it was  _ that _ look that made Dick’s skin crawl. 

No one wanted hero worship when they barely classified themselves as such. 

Wally shook his head - he was running in circles even in his mind and it wasn’t going to fix any of the cracks in Batman and Robin that seemed to grow as Dick did. He wanted more freedom and independence, Bruce wanted blind obedience. Perhaps Wally was biased but he could understand exactly  _ why _ they were butting heads. 

Fortunately, he and Barry had their own issues but never bad enough that they fought like  _ that _ . Loud. Explosive. Angry. 

Dinah would have reminded them that anger was never the base emotion but simply the way for the aggressor to handle their hurt. Dinah wasn’t there. Or even Clark to play mediator. And Wally suspected Alfred was only a good ten minutes away from slamming their heads together until they learned to  _ talk _ instead of scream. Jason winced and stood up with his hot chocolate cradled to his chest. “I’m going upstairs.” Wally waved as he went, considered following him for his own sanity but, instead, grabbed the half empty plate of cookies and made his way down the steps. 

They were both sans masks (it was  _ something else _ to see Bruce Wayne in the Batman suit without his mask on. It was both humanizing and more terrifying), and Dick had shucked the cape on his chair - folded nicely because Alfred would have his head if it was anything but. Wally remembered Dick’s many rants about  _ hating  _ the cape. It cramped his style, made every single move he made have to calculate for how the  _ cape _ would move along with his body when the suit itself was already ridiculously weighed down. The scientist in Wally understood exactly how annoying a cape must be to fight in, but Batman had adamantly refused to remove it from the suit. And Wally got  _ that _ too - the cape was flame retardant, helped glide between buildings, and conciliatory. Most of which wouldn’t matter, in Wally’s opinion, if Batman hadn’t dressed Dick in such bright colors. 

Not that Wally didn’t understand the homage the Robin suit made to the Flying Graysons. He understood it completely. It was a way for Dick to hold onto his family when they were gone. But… It was a bit impractical. 

“I told you not to engage.” Bruce Wayne didn’t  _ yell _ \- he growled out anger, clenched his teeth, and fixed you with a stare so dark it could set your soul on fire without ever seeing it. 

Being on the receiving end of that face wasn’t a life goal of Wally’s. He didn’t  _ want _ to have his soul set on fire, thank you very much. He very much enjoyed having his soul intact. Unfortunately for Bruce-man, he wasn’t staring down Wally but his desensitized seventeen year old child. Richard Grayson had a measure of balls that Wally had never seen from a grown man, let alone a teenager. Wally had never been more attracted to him and he had watched him undress, diffuse a bomb with only a paperclip, and do some  _ very _ bendy things. Dick crossed his arms, lifted his chin, and stared  _ directly _ into Bruce’s soul melting stare. 

Bruce had to be  _ a little  _ bit impressed. 

_ Wally _ certainly was much more interested. “And  _ I _ told you that if I engaged I could get the situation diffused in a matter of minutes instead of hours.” 

“The problem was that you didn’t listen to a direct order.” 

“The  _ problem _ is that I’m not a soldier for you to order around.” 

A muscle ticked in Bat-Wayne’s jaw. Wally was amazed. That was the most emotion he had seen from that man in almost ten years. Unfortunately for him,  _ that _ was when Bruce noticed him lurking by the bottom of the stairs. The stare went to him instead and Wally almost squeaked in an effort to hide himself from view. Dick shifted just enough that his lack of bulk was blocking Wally from Bruce’s gaze. “We’ll finish this when we don’t have an audience.” Bruce turned on his heel and stomped out. Well, walked out. Marched out? The Bat didn’t  _ stomp _ anywhere. That would imply too much of an immaturity that Batman certainly didn’t possess. 

Dick deflated the moment the door to the showers shut. 

His shoulders dropped, his chin fell against his chest and his hair seemed to lose it’s poof. And Wally loved it’s poof. “You good, babe?” Wally asked softly even if he knew the answer. Dick would inevitably say that he was  _ fine _ \- Wally’s least favorite word in the entire world -, Wally would know he meant he  _ wasn’t _ , Bruce would come back in, Dick would storm out and take a shower in his room, and Wally would fall asleep before him. 

Dick’s long eyelashes fluttered over Wally’s favorite shade of blue and his hair flowed between his fingers when he ran them through it’s dark locks. He looked up, bit his lip and gazed at the room around them as though it held a secret only he could see. Wally resigned himself to the  _ fine _ . It was impossible to get Dick Grayson to open up about anything unless he wanted to. “I don’t know.” 

Wally blinked. 

Then blinked again. 

Then accepted that if this was the path Dick wanted to pave then Wally would help him pave it. “Want to talk about it?” Iris always said talking about issues was key to a healthy relationship. 

Not that Wally thought that  _ they _ were having problems. But seeing Dick struggle with anything was so unusual that Wally didn’t really know how to approach it. Dick shrugged and hugged his elbows closer to his body before turning to finally look at Wally. He had a bruise slowly blooming across his jaw, and Wally would bet he had others to match it hidden beneath the suit. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.” Dick said soft enough that even Bruce’s fancy bat computer couldn’t pick up on it unless it was enhanced as far as it could go. 

He leaned his cheek into Wally’s bigger, warm to the touch hand and smiled that dazzling smile of his at the brush of the pad of Wally’s finger. Wally smiled back because there wasn’t much he could do in response to  _ that _ smile. “Why don’t you go take a shower? Alfred’s got some cocoa upstairs.” 

“Jason’s probably drank it all already.” 

Wally shrugged - he wouldn’t blame the kid, Alfred’s hot chocolate was amazing. “I’ll make you your own powdered monstrosity.”

Dick snorted out a laugh, stood on his tiptoes and planted a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Like you’re one to talk, kid dork.” 

“You  _ stink _ , boy blunder.” 

Dick shoved at his shoulder with less force than he would have anyone else’s and stole a cookie off the plate. Their shoulders nudged together as they walked (upstairs, because Wally had been right and if  _ Bruce _ was in the showers in the cave than Dick wouldn’t be). “So, how was patrol?” 

* * *

“I’m telling you,” Wally bemoaned to Roy over facetime, the older man obviously tired and holding a babbling Lian on his hip. “They’re going at it literally every other second. I don’t think they can even be in a room together without fighting.” 

Roy hummed. “I remember when Ollie and I started falling apart.” 

“They’re not falling apart.” But, really, Wally was just kidding himself. They  _ were _ falling apart. The cracks were so terribly obvious even to people who didn’t know Batman and Robin outside of the masks. Their arguments had started flooding into their patrols - nothing too bad but plenty of close moments. The criminals in Gotham were starting to take sides. “Okay maybe they’re falling apart.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and Roy chuckled. 

“Listen, man, it’s going to happen no matter what we do about it. Dick’s too stubborn to just let Bruce get away with anything and Bruce wants just what Ollie did.” 

“Which is?” 

“You’re lucky, Wals.” Roy shrugged. “Barry’s your uncle. He’s literally always been in your life. You guys are family.” 

“Dick’s Bruce’s kid.” 

“No, he’s his  _ ward _ . Bruce hasn’t adopted him legally. If Bruce sees him as family he has to stop the emotionally constipated superhero gag and tell him.” Roy rolled his eyes. “But that’s not what I was getting at. Barry’s cool with you growing up and moving on. Ollie wasn’t okay with it when I started showing a spine and  _ Bruce _ definitely doesn’t want to give up his control.” 

“I don’t think he wants to control Dick.” Because Wally had been around the explosive Wayne home long enough to know that Bruce was terribly emotionally repressed but he actually  _ was _ proud of his kid. 

“He doesn’t want him to grow up.” Roy fixed Wally with a look. “And  _ that _ is the same as not wanting to give up control.” 

It gave Wally something to think about because Wally had plenty of life experience that centered around  _ control _ . Not quite in the same way - his family was mostly relaxed about his choices to pursue either the life of a superhero or the life of an average citizen. “What can I do to help? I just… don’t want them to spend so long fighting that they forget why they even started this.” He knew he sounded pathetic. Dick’s problems with Bruce were just that -  _ Dick’s _ problems. It wasn’t Wally’s job to fix it or hold it together. 

But  _ god _ it would break Dick to lose Bruce and Wally didn’t doubt that it would tear Bruce apart to lose Dick. 

Roy shrugged hopelessly. “Just be there, man. Be there for the fallout.” 

* * *

Be there for the fallout. 

That was easier said than done when  _ everyday _ seemed as though it were the fallout. Or, rather, as though Dick was steadfastly ignoring every possible fallout to the best of his - very capable - abilities. Bruce and Dick didn’t eat any meals together, Alfred couldn’t even corner one into a room with the other, Jason and Wally had a small bet on the side of what would happen  _ if _ they did meet and Wally had never felt the chill settle into Wayne Manor quite like it was then. He honestly didn’t know what to do and Wally… well Wally wasn’t the type of person to be  _ useless _ . 

“Shove over.” Dick nudged his long, lanky legs with his foot and scoffed when Wally decided to do the exact opposite of that. Wally, for his part, sunk in even farther into the cushion and stuffed an overly large handful of popcorn into his mouth to chomp on loudly. He smirked at Dick’s eye roll and then immediately yelped when Dick skillfully plucked the popcorn bucket out of his grip and out of his arm span before Wally could blink. 

Evil. 

Evil bat-person. 

Dick mimicked his smirk with a particularly devilish one himself, reminiscent of his days as Robin. And suddenly Wally was looking at Robin in his glory, shorter ( _ much _ shorter), less tempered by the evils of the world and cocky to boot. Arrogant and flippant and annoyingly good at  _ everything  _ that he did. 

Wally blinked and it was Dick again.  _ His _ Dick. Taller and broader and weighed down by death, destruction and with a thin, dark purple bruise painting his cheekbone - right where his domino would have ended. “Where’d you get that?” Wally leaned forward, traced the bruise lightly with his pale fingers against Dick’s caramel skin. 

Dick shivered like he always did when Wally touched him gently. It was almost like most people were so  _ hard _ and aggressive that he forgot the kindness he deserved. Dick’s lips quirked into a small smile but his eyes were softer than most anyone got to see. He covered Wally’s hand with his fingers, tapped them once, twice, three times against his skin and turned his face just enough to press his lips against the palm. “I’ve had worse.” 

Wally frowned. “That’s not what I asked.” 

Dick blinked and his eyes dropped from Wally’s to his chest. He didn’t have many nervous tics - why would he when the Bat had trained most of them out of him - but he  _ did _ have at least one that Wally had tracked. It was so barely there that Wally thought that, perhaps, he was one of the only people that noticed it. Dick rubbed the tips of his fingers on his jeans and shrugged. “I went down to the docks to bust a human trafficking ring. One of the thugs got a lucky shot in.” 

“When was that?” Because it  _ looked _ fresh. 

“Last night.” Dick tilted his head. “This morning? I don’t really remember the  _ exact _ time.” 

Wally nodded, shifted his legs from where Dick had wanted to sit before and waited until he could feel the other boy’s warmth settle against his chest to rest his chin atop his soft black hair. Dick toyed with his fingers, sighed and relaxed until he was practically slumped against Wally with his eyes shut. Wally wondered how many truly  _ relaxing _ moments Dick allowed himself to have. 

He bet it wasn’t enough. 

Which led Wally to a different thought all together - Dick was very deliberate with his words constantly - a possible side effect to English not being his first language, or, even more likely, a symptom of side-stepping the truth with his own identity the majority of his life. He had said  _ “I” _ . Not “ _ we _ ”. 

_ Robin  _ didn’t go off on his own. 

_ Dick _ didn’t go off on his own. 

Not without backup. 

Not without Bruce. 

Not without…. “Jason started last night.” Dick said with his eyes still closed, short and stilted. 

It was in the rarest moments of Wally’s life that he was rendered speechless. 

This was one of those moments. 

He buried his nose into Dick’s hair, felt the way his breath stuttered as his  _ own _ emotions threatened to get the best of him, and held him tighter against his chest. “That wasn’t his to give.” Dick’s voice broke on the way out. He twisted it into a growl. 

Wally was wholly unprepared. 

He could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen Dick get emotionally compromised. He kissed the skin under his ear and struggled to find the right words to say. Robin  _ belonged _ to Dick. It  _ belonged _ to the Graysons. It  _ belonged _ to the little boy that reached for his parents hand as their line snapped and who had to be held back by the lion tamer from running to join them. It didn’t  _ belong _ to Jason, no matter how good the kid was. It didn’t  _ belong _ to  _ Bruce Wayne _ or  _ Batman _ or anyone other than  _ Richard John Grayson _ . 

It was a different feeling than Wally had ever felt much before. To be heartbroken and angry on  _ behalf _ of someone else. To feel that pain so deeply within himself as though it were his own. “I know.” Wally rubbed at Dick’s hip. “I love you.”

_ I know, I love you _ . 

A pathetic answer from Kid Mouth.

* * *

Wally left Gotham and went back to Central the day before Christmas Eve, his hands ice in his gloves and something terrible coiling in his stomach. He had gone with Dick to visit his parents the day before, had left them flowers and a thermos of fresh cooked hot chocolate. They had gone ice skating, gotten the majority of Wally’s holiday shopping done, and kissed under every outdoor mistletoe that they could find. Other than the fact that Dick had purposely avoided all talk of Bruce, Jason, and Robin after that night had only managed to sour the mood the smallest bit. 

But Wally had known. 

It was hard to be in the same room as Jason after that. It wasn’t the kid’s fault but he was bursting with the same sort of proud energy that Dick had used to wear. To be trained and chosen by the Batman. 

Wally didn’t know how to warn the kid that it wasn’t the costume or the training or even the villains that were the down side. 

It was being tossed away for the newer, shinier model. 

He hadn’t been given the opportunity to speak to Bruce. Although, perhaps it was better for Wally that he  _ hadn’t _ . He wasn’t sure if Batman would have allowed him to survive after he attempted to verbally pulverize him. 

He made it back to Central, and safely inside Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris’s warm, bright home, in under an hour. 

In  _ five _ he was answering the door bell in the middle of family dinner. The twins were squealing in the background, his father was laughing loudly and deep, and his mother and Iris were arguing over the best way to bake chocolate chip cookies and the world narrowed down to blue eyes and a suitcase. “Wally? Is it carolers?” Because that was the sort of neighborhood Uncle Barry lived in. He zipped to Wally’s side in a streak of red and grabbed onto the door. “Oh. Dick. Hi!” That was what was great about Uncle Barry, he adapted. 

Wally was still in shock. 

Dick smiled - his show smile, not so different from his  _ actual _ one save for minor inconsistencies such as the fact that his nose didn’t wrinkle and the corners of his eyes did  _ too _ much. “Hey. Can uhm…” 

“Come in!” Uncle Barry grabbed the handle of his suitcase and pulled it inside, Dick following suit just a second later, his chest brushing up against Wally’s when he refused to leave. 

His eyes. 

It was his eyes. 

They were red. 

He had been crying. “Hey Walls.” He said softly, fingertips tapping against his jeans. 

“Hey, Dickie.” Wally found his voice. 

“Dick’s here!” Uncle Barry announced and then hustled them into the kitchen, far enough away from the group of Allen’s that they didn’t have to worry about being overhead. “What’s going on? Everything okay?” 

That stretching rubber band that was Wally’s composure was threatening to snap. Because Wally was  _ good _ . Wally was smart. He knew it was around ten at night in Gotham - an hour into patrol. He knew it was supposed to be Dick’s first time patrolling with Batman and Robin 2.0. He  _ knew _ and so it shouldn’t have been shocking when Dick said it. 

“No,” Dick blinked furiously and Wally, wordlessly, without conscious thought, slipped his hand into his own and squeezed. “I quit.” 

Uncle Barry dropped the mug he had been filling with water and then caught it a second before it could shatter on the ground. “What?” 

“I quit.” Dick looked at him, opened his mouth to say something that words didn’t seem right for and shrugged helplessly. “I…” 

He folded easily into Wally’s embrace, his arms tight around his back and Wally’s even tighter around the top of his head. “Okay.” 

_ Okay. _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make me more likely to write more in the future 😊


End file.
